


Parallels

by AmbitiousHeart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Clexa, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 07:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6043417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbitiousHeart/pseuds/AmbitiousHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is helping Lexa with her injuries and it leads to them trying to deal with their feelings. Clexa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parallels

**Author's Note:**

> I first posted this on Tumblr and FFN - starting to move my fics here.  
> *also wrote this before we saw EP3.04

Clarke pressed a wet cloth to the wound on Lexa’s hand, trying to focus on this current task than on everything that happened that day. She glanced up but quickly directed her eyes back down again, the Commander was watching her carefully. She didn’t want to think about everything that happened the last few days. Clarke had grown accustomed to pushing things out and compartmentalizing. Being around Lexa was making that difficult. It would have been difficult around anyone she had known previously, that was why she had left in the first place. Lexa wasn’t anyone.

She didn’t know how to feel about her. It could have been easy enough to decide to not feel anything about her, but Clarke couldn’t help it. She did feel something for her.

She felt anger and understanding and betrayal and hurt and trust, pain, desire, sadness, comfort, anxious. Most of all she just felt so _tired_.

Clarke finished cleaning the wound. It was deep, straight to the bone. If it were anywhere else she’s cauterize it, but a burn like that could limit future movement in her hand. She wrapped it tight.

“Anything else I should look at?” Clarke asked as she looked her over, careful to avoid Lexa’s eyes. “Besides that shoulder?”

“Just the shoulder.” There was a patience in Lexa’s voice, as if she knew exactly what Clarke was thinking and exactly what she was doing. 

Avoiding, evading, she felt guilty. She told Lexa that she understood why she did what she did at the Mountain, then why was she having so much trouble trying to forgive her? Especially when every fiber of her being wanted to?

Clarke still had Lexa’s hand in hers. She need to keep moving.  She let go and moved from the stool she was using to sitting next to Lexa on her bed. “Let’s take a look then,” her voice shook despite her trying to keep it light. This was why she left, she was _thinking_ again.

Lexa was having trouble pulling her arm out from her sleeve. Clarke tried to help, but judging from the little noise of protest the warrior made her arm was not going to move like that. “What about that movement hurts?” she asked, sliding her hands under Lexa’s shirt to feel if anything was out of place or broken.

“When I – Ow!” Lexa winced at her touch, “right there.”

 _Her teres muscles?_ “I think you pulled a muscle. Here,” She felt Lexa relax as she guided her movement. “How’s this?”

“Hurts a little less.”

Clarke nodded, it seemed like her guess was right. She let her doctor-mind take over, if she kept that mindset this could be easy. Easier. Bearable. Focus. She needed to get a good look at the wound to treat it properly. That was only going to happen if she cut it from her back or took it off completely. She went for the later, near eighteen years living on the ark with its limited resources was hard to shake off.

She tugged at the hem of the other girl’s shirt and carefully pulled it over her head. Lexa let out another restrained cry of pain as Clarke helped her arm out, but didn’t protest.

Lexa glanced back at her. There it was, eye contact, the one thing Clarke was most trying to avoid right now. She was thrown off, like a mental fumble.

The brunette pressed her lips together and looked away. She balled up the shirt and covered her front with it. With her good hand, she toyed at the fabric, keeping her head ducked. Clarke blinked. Lexa was being shy. She tilted her head slightly, just enough that Clarke could see the flush in her cheeks, “how does it look?”

“Uhm,” Right. The wound. Clarke shifted her gaze to assess the situation. There was a gash on her left shoulder blade, blood had dripped down her back. Her back went from red on one side of her tattoo while the other side was clear save for the rows of kill marks. The wound itself didn’t seem all that deep, just bloody. “Not bad, actually,” she said, reaching for a clean cloth to clean it with, “I don’t think you’ll need stiches or anything.”

She felt Lexa flinch as she pressed the cloth against the torn skin. “Sorry, did that hurt?” she asked. Had she misjudged and pressed too hard?

The smallest “Um,” escaped her lips. Her ears went red fast. Instead of answering, Lexa shook her head.

 _Oh._ Oh. That wasn’t so much a flinch of pain but more a shudder of pleasure. Clarke felt her heart accelerate. This was exactly what she was worried about. This was exactly how she wished she didn’t want things to be. Or go. The problem was that she _did_ want that, no matter how much she told herself she didn’t. She couldn’t help but remember what happened the last time she was in a similar situation, Clarke even had a similar wound then as Lexa did now.

She tried to play it off, continuing to clean the wound. “So, uh, this is okay?” Clarke cursed herself for stumbling through her words. She wasn’t selling the _I’m not catching on to what’s going on between us_ persona.

“Yes,” it wasn’t what she said but how she said it, like it escaped on her breath. Lexa was cursing herself as well, judging from how her shoulders tensed after she spoke, which was making cleaning the gash more difficult.

“Lexa, you need to relax.” Clarke needed to relax too. She watched as Lexa took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It seemed to help her.

Clarke finished cleaning the wound and tapped on a thick gauze patch. It would do its job, it didn’t look like she was bleeding anymore, it was more there as a covering. She wrung out the cloth and went to wipe off the blood all over her back.

Lexa shuddered again now that her hands were suddenly lower. The brunette it her lip. Clarke didn’t mention it this time. She knew how she must be feeling.

When was the last time someone touched her like this? Touched her at all? When was the last time she was touched by someone she cared for, and who cared for her?

She thought of the kiss they had shared. That pure bliss of complete understanding. They had shared it, the beauty of discovery.

Clarke found herself tracing over the tattoos on her back. She could feel Lexa’s breathing, her sharp intakes of breath at each stroke. There was much more to be discovered here. They shared that intense curiosity, she could feel it in the air. It pulled her closer.

She softly pressed her lips against the back of Lexa’s neck. She breathed against her, taking her in. The smell of blood, sweat, and sun-kissed skin.

Lexa’s shoulders relaxed in the ecstasy of the touch. She gasped, “Clarke…?”  
As she slid her hands down to her hips, Lexa placed her hands over them. It was as if she was saying _yes, please, I want this too._

Clarke closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the back of her neck, letting that sink in. Lexa wanted this, wanted _her_. This meant something to her. Clarke knew that, had known that, and God yes she wanted her too. Lexa meant something to her too.

Lexa was waiting for her, letting her set the pace.

Clarke could feel herself shaking. This wasn’t a decision she wanted to make.

She couldn’t just leave when she awoke in the morning without the ability to deal with this. Not with Lexa. Not with what this would mean to her.

The hard truth was that Clarke knew she couldn’t deal. Guilt crept up inside her with just this, how could she handle going any further?

Lexa must have felt the tears. She squeezed her hands and whispered, “Clarke?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t-“ She cut off sharply, unsure that she could say out loud what she meant. The silence felt endless.

“It’s okay,” Lexa assured her softly.

She understood. Those simple words made her walls crumble. The emotions she spent all of her time trying to hold in or hide away came bursting forward. It never felt safe having these thoughts to herself, but Lexa understood. She was safe with these feeling around her.

Clarke nestled in, resting her cheek against Lexa’s back.

”I don’t want to hurt you, it’s just-” Her small voice broke. There were some things she didn’t want to admit. “I have nightmares now,” the words spilled out in spite of her, “and I see you in them.”

Lexa took a deep breath. The words were painful to hear, for both of them, but she nodded and took it.

Clarke could feel the other girl’s breathing become a chore, she was trying to hold something back. She wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist. She wanted to comfort her from her words, protect her from the truth. Lexa’s arms came with, her thumbs drawing circles over Clarke’s wrists.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa managed to say, her words choked. Clarke felt droplets on her arms. Lexa was crying, trying to hold it back the best she could but she had broken that seal that kept all her emotions back. It was more than Clarke’s words, more than their implications, but everything from the moment they met until then. The blonde held her tighter. She need to, she needed her to know that she couldn’t blame her.

“It’s not your fault,” but that wasn’t quite right and they both knew it. She retracted, “we’re _both_ responsible.” She had just as much trouble getting her words out as Lexa.

They sat there for a while, just breathing.

How could this all feel so awful and so comforting at the same time? Lexa had matched the rise and fall of her breath with her own and Clarke leaned against her, finally letting herself think. This should have been good, they shouldn’t feel awful, not with how right it felt.

“Will we always be this broken?” Clarke whispered, feeling the words catch in her throat, “are we to broken to-?”

She cut off, but Lexa finished the question for her. “To what?” she asked, “…to love?”

Clarke nodded. She couldn’t say it.

“I hope not,” Lexa said. After a moment she added, “I had thought I never would again.” She swallowed hard and took a breath. “But then I met you.”

A small sad smile formed on her lips. She wanted so badly to tell Lexa that she loved her too, but she wasn’t that strong. She couldn’t hold to it. She didn’t trust herself. “I hope not too.”

 

 

Lexa had fallen into a half sleep, Clarke’s arms still around her waist. Her head ached from a mix of lying there for too long, the fight the day before, and from crying. Anticipation for the political outcomes from yesterday clawed at her stomach while what happened with Clarke squeezed at her lungs. Despite it all, she felt good.

She had laid herself out bare to her, let her see her in ways she hadn’t even let _herself_ see in so long. She was there, she was ready and Clarke wanted to be there too. That was enough.

Clarke mumbled incoherently in her sleep. Even if they had been real words, she was certain she was not awake enough to understand them.

She woke to the blonde’s dream turn into a nightmare. Clarke’s whole body tensed and flinched at unseen horrors. The not-words coming from her mouth were urgent, defensive.

Lexa rolled onto her back and looked over her. She looked like she was in pain. “Clarke,” she whispered, lightly placing her hand on her shoulder. At her touch, Clarke shot up in bed in a thrashing, gasping mess. Lexa took an elbow to the ribs. She took a firm grip on both the girl’s shoulders. “Clarke!” she called, shaking her out of it. “It’s over, it’s not real.”

The panic faded from Clarke’s features. Her blue eyes stared into hers, watery and desperate. “It _is_ real.”

Her hands slid down to Clarke’s elbows. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against Clarke’s. “Then you don’t have to face it alone. I’m here.”

Clarke sniffled and tried to choke down her fear. “What about when you’re not?” She breathed.

Lexa thought for a moment before turning to look at her headboard. There was a bunch of little things she had collected over the years hanging from it. She didn’t know what most of these things would have been in the past, but she liked the way they looked; A NASA lanyard, a pair of headphones used as a chain for random old phone charms, a color changing mood necklace, a dreamcatcher. Her eyes fell on a charm bracelet whose only remaining charms were a maple leaf, the moon and a music note.

“Here,” she said, taking it. “You are the moon, for Skaikru and I am the leaf, for Trikru,” she tied it around Clarke’s wrist, “if things are difficult it will remind you that we are together in spirit.”

She realized how childish it sounded. She looked away, embarrassed. Lexa felt exposed, it didn’t help that she hadn’t put her shirt back on. Thankfully Clarke had been too distressed to notice. She thought to cover herself, moving one arm across her chest while the other reached for the long discarded article of clothing.

Clarke noticed now. Her heart beat fast. She placed her hand over Lexa’s. “You don’t have to.”

Lexa understood, like horns blaring alarm. “You said before…?”She questioned the sudden change of heart.

“I think I need this right now.” The intensity in Clarke’s eyes sent a chill up her spine.

She fixed her composure. “If you need comfort, there are other ways I can give that to you.”

“It’s not just comfort I want.” Their fingers had intertwined with each other’s.

Her mouth went dry. This was _hard_. She wanted this. _Bad_. But she didn’t want Clarke to regret it. “This won’t make you feel better –“

“-in the long run.” Clarke cut her off. “I know. But I’ll feel better _now._ ”

Lexa could understand where she was coming from. She thought of all the deaths she was responsible and how isolating it felt. It felt like no one could love her – in _any_ capacity – after everything on her hands. It felt like she could never deserve it. Shouldering these horrors would be all she’d ever have.

Right now Clarke didn’t feel she deserved it. That was why she wanted it, to lose herself in it and hopefully forget for just a moment that she didn’t forgive either of them.

“Okay,” Lexa breathed.

“Okay,” Clarke echoed. She brought up her hand to get a hold on the back of Lexa’s head. The movement was slow, suddenly tentative with the knowledge that this was happening. Her fingers moved across her cheek, Lexa’s lips parted at the touch.

Everything seemed to slow down. Painstakingly, wonderfully slow. Her eyes darted from Clarke’s lips to her eyes, following them up as Clarke sat up on her knees. Her other hand moved to Lexa’s waist as she straddled her. It was the cliff’s edge, ready to jump. It was making eye contact with an enemy on the battlefield, the moment before the first strike. This was happening.

Clarke leaned in and brushed her lips against hers. Lexa moved her hands to Clarke’s hips. This was it. Lexa hoped this was working for Clarke as well as it was for her. Her mind was clear of everything but this, wanting this, waiting for this, wanting her.

The blonde kissed her softly. Lexa met her in kind. Her heart leapt with excitement, smiling through the kiss so reminiscent of their first.

Clarke used her hand to tilt Lexa’s head back and pushed up hard against her. “Mmm,” Lexa let out a sound of pleasant surprise at the sudden intensity of the kiss. She pulled the girl close, hands sliding up her back under her shirt. She could taste her tongue and the lack of air they shared between them. She could feel Clarke grasp for breath and smile as Lexa let herself fall to her back.

She tugged at Clarke’s shirt until the blonde pulled her head and arms though and tossed it away. Clarke went to continue kissing her but Lexa moved quicker.

She pressed her lips against Clarke’s neck. Lexa worked her way down to her chest, tongue moving across her skin. “ _Lexa_ ,” Clarke gasped, her hands falling blindly on her as she tried to keep herself steady.

Lexa could fix that for her. She rolled the girl onto her back, who breathed a laugh and wrapped her legs around her waist. Lexa couldn’t hide the excitement on her face, nor did she want to. She hadn’t felt this way in so long, and she wanting it to last.

She looked into Clarke’s eyes. For a moment the blonde tensed up. Lexa hesitated. Was something wrong? Was this not helping her? But the thoughts faded quickly as Clarke kissed her again, harder than before.

Clarke pushed her onto her back again. Was that what it was? The girl’s hands worked over her, sending shudders of pleasure through her body. Had she just wanted to be on top? Lexa didn’t care, she’d give Clarke whatever she wanted. She just wanted her.

Clarke pulled back. She didn’t think her heart could beat faster as the blonde undid her pants a pulled them off of her. Before she could go any further Lexa placed her hand against her shoulder. “Wait,” she said breathlessly, surprised she still had a voice left. “I want to see you too.”

After a moment, Clarke nodded slightly. “Okay,” the word left her differently than before, more uncertain. Or was that waver in her voice just from nerves?

“We can stop at any time,” Lexa said. She didn’t want to. Stopping would be almost the last thing that’s she wanted, but the last things was to continue when Clarke wasn’t sure she wanted to.

“I don’t want to,” Clarke insisted. She undid her own pants and slipped out of them as if to prove it. “Unless you want to?” It was a tease, of course she knew what Lexa’s answer would be. Still it seemed to surprise or unnerve her.

“I want whatever you want,” Lexa said. With that, she knew what was bugging the other girl. Clarke wanted this to be a distraction, just a distraction. That wasn’t what she was getting. She was feeling things she didn’t want to feel, that she wasn’t ready for, but she was refusing to admit it. Her hands lightly ran over Clarke’s skin. “You’re so beautiful,” she breathed.

Clarke blushed and glanced away. Lexa knew she was right. It was only for a moment, soon Clarke moved in to kiss her again. The kiss was slower this time, more deliberate, Lexa made sure of that. She pulled away when Clarke tried to quicken the pace, to push it with a confident tenderness. Clarke wasn’t ready for this and she was going to make her admit it.

The blonde place her hand on Lexa’s thigh, moved across up and around her. Lexa placed her hand over hers’, brushing her thumb over the back of her hand. Before she could move her other hand, Lexa took it into her, weaving their fingers together.

She pulled away from the kiss, even as Clarke moved and missed to continue it. She pressed her forehead against hers’ and Clarke opened her eyes as if in question. Eye contact, it was a guilt trip. Lexa could see it in her eyes, Clarke would back down.

Clarke glanced away again. She bit her lip and sighed.

“You’re right.” She climbed off her and laid next to her.

“I usually am.” Lexa said.

Clarke gave her a look. She shook her head and sighed and laid down next to her. “It’s not going to make me feel better,” she admitted, “If anything I’d feel worse.”

“Thanks,” Lexa said sarcastically. She knew what Clarke meant, she was toying with her. Clarke turned, about to explain, but saw the humor in her eyes. They both smiled.

Lexa grabbed her blanket and pulled it over them. “We’ll need our rest,” she said, “Tomorrow is a new day.”


End file.
